10 Times Madeline Had Her Hair Done
by WonderfulRainbows
Summary: Basically Madeline gets her hair done by 10 different people. NyoCanada x World
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So this was like written a while ago so I thought that I should published it because why the heck not! Every single one of the chapters consist of about 600-700 words, not really long but short enough for a quick read._

 _Disclaimer: Hetalia and the characters all belong to Hidekazu Himaruya_

 _Enjoy everyone!_

 **Dutch braids—Netherlands**

Softening calloused fingers ran through the still brightly fair hair, watching it gracefully fall in between Madeline's fingers. The small girl in front of Madeline giggled as she fiddled around with the tulip flower in her hand. Her foremost favourite flower, her mother had said that these her nation's national flower. Her mother had been eagerly raising a lot of these flowers in their temporary home in Canada.

Though she's never seen what her country looks like, Madeline had claimed that it was one of the most beautiful countries she's ever seen and Margaret, couldn't wait to see it in person.

The young princess shifted in her seat impatiently as Madeline hummed in that French song that Margaret wasn't truly familiar with. Madeline gave a pat on her head to indicate that she was done with braiding her hair.

Margaret tugged at the braid that ran down her head into one braid, it was tight but not enough that it hurt. She ran her fingers through the small bumps—it reminded her of the train that she rode with Madeline recently.

"Where did you learn how to braid like this?" questions Margaret.

Fingers gently tried their best to smoothen the small strands of hair trying to come out of the braid. She gave a small tug before answering the Dutch princess, "A dear friend of mine used to do the same braid on me when I was a child. He taught me how to do a Dutch braid, and guess what?"

The young princess glances around the manor, fair eyes widening in eagerness to listen to the forbidden secret that Madeline was about to tell. She leans in even closer if possible, looking giddy as Madeline lowly whispered as if someone would hear them. She continued in a low tone, "The man who taught me how to do a Dutch braid is a citizen of yours."

The young princess squealed happily, within a couple of minutes, the energetic princess stood up abruptly. The young girl got up, sprinting pass Madeline back to the manor at the top of her lungs, yelling, "Looks beautiful! I'm going to show mama!"

Madeline whisper-yelled after the young princess, telling her to be careful.

Madeline touched the same braid that she had done just this morning. A fond smile on her face, highlighted by the purple reddish sun setting behind the night sky, she paced herself a little faster back to the manor. It wasn't safe to stay outside for so long.

" _Mon ami, this is mon cher Madeline," Francis bend down, showing off his new small colony to a very tall man with spiky hair, though half of his face was covered by his scarf, Madeline had the feeling that he was scowling underneath. Her initial impression of him was that he was a very scary person to be around._

 _Netherland's stern face never changed, but nonetheless, France, who very much like many other colonizers had been too busy to deal with a youthful barren land like Canada (which Madeline herself hadn't known of)._

 _More often than not, Madeline found herself in the companionship of the Dutch man, contrary to his looks, he treated her fondly and habitually braided her hair whenever Francis had been too occupied by his work to even pay a single attention to his colony._

 _Madeline had been sitting by the fireplace in her Papa's home in Paris while Lars, she learned his name was, sat behind, gently combining through her messy golden locks. Followed by endless amounts of tugging and pulling. It had taken a while before the older man finished, but patience came with a reward—he looked satisfied at the production._

 _Lars pulled out a piece of glass, showing young Madeline the Dutch braid that cascaded down her back._

 _Madeline was pleased with the result and ran towards her Papa's office with Lars in tow to show her new hairstyle. She even went as far as to ask her papa to be her new model so she could try to learn the Dutch braid in person with Lars guiding her from behind._

"Just wait for me Lars," She clenched the braid in her hand, a fierce look on her face. "I will come save you."

 _Notes:_

 _I did insert some historical information there, although the timeline isn't accurate—for instance, the Princess had gone back to Netherlands when the war ended, and she was around the age of a toddler._

 _Basically, I altered the timeline a little bit, you don't need to inform me because I already know._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: Hetalia and the characters all belong to Hidekazu Himaruya_

 _**All stories have a max words of 500-600. Edit: For some reason, this ended up being almost 1000 words. I couldn't stop myself xD_

 **Side braid—Belgium**

Belgium released a blissful sigh as she combed through Madeline's beautiful messy blonde hair. The shade, if she could describe it, wasn't a very common shade of blonde—it was a two tone shade, a natural one at its best work. Her head top was the shade of the just the perfect ripe banana, and the ends of her hair was a tainted hue of yellow and orange.

To be honest, Madeline's hair almost reminded her of a peach, though not literally splotching different shades—it was subtle. And plus peach sounded like a good metaphor, Madeline _is_ as lovely as a peach.

Or if anything the peach was as lovely as Madeline.

Amidst repairing the whole country, Bella easily found joys in doing even the simplest task. A couple of months into after the initial ending of the war, most countries had gone back to repairing after the intense battle—although countries like Canada and America didn't have much repairing to do since they had been barely touched by battlefield.

To be frank, Bella knew that America wouldn't let those damn "Nazi" bastards even glance at his sister—let alone allow them to set foot in the New World.

She found it funny, and though not in a bad way. It always reminded of her overprotective relationship with Lars when she was just a little colony. Though Bella had grown far pass from being the young little sister that needed protection. She couldn't see Madeline growing pass that stage, it just made her a lot more lovable when Bella knew that she had to get pass her older super protective brother.

At that time, Bella had been one of the handful female nations, she grew up in a house full of boys, no offence really, but she really missed having female companionship.

Elizabeta was a good companion but none of their taste ever coincide with each other. With Madeline, on the other hand, their likes and dislikes were almost identical and not to mention they spoke the same language.

Which was why she couldn't resist not fixing up Madeline's initial messy hair when she had bumped into the younger girl in the hallways just hours before the world meeting.

Bella never once actually took notice of Madeline's hair until after the war, when the youth wasn't cover with dried blood and dirt. The last time that she had seen the girl not looking rather unpresentable was when she was still France's colony and Lars had brought over the young toddler.

Bella stared at the orange hue hair tips, just the dirt and blood free sight could make an individual wonder if Madeline spent lots of money just to keep it that way. However, knowing Madeline, she wouldn't even spend a dime to help herself but would prefer to donate whatever money she had—what a _selfless_ girl.

So selfless, it almost pisses Bella off.

Madeline tensed, shoulders gathering as a shiver ran down through her spine, recalling the need to keep on guard. Her body automatically defaulting to defensive mode when Bella brushed on the scar on the back of her neck.

Bella picked her hair up, pressing her pink lips against the scar running through the back of her neck.

"Bella?"

"Je suis désolé, ça fait mal?"

"Non, Ne t'inquiète pas, tu n'étais pas toi-même."

Shifting on her feet nervously, Bella wonders if America had ever seen the scar that she made on his beloved sister. She'd hate to be confronted by the young powerful, who could potentially just drop a bunch of nukes into her small country.

A simple three stranded braid running down the left side of Madeline's face. Fingers tugged on the finished side braid on Madeline's hair. The simple braid had framed Madeline's face nicely, though the glasses was starting to annoy Bella—it was distracting Bella from the real view of Madeline's lilac eyes.

Side braids were simple and nice. Just like how Bella likes it and Madeline was the definition of simple and graceful, all package into one box.

"Bella, aren't we going to be late?" ask Madeline but obediently remained seated.

Bella nods her head, pulling Madeline up as she circled around the young North American girl, eyes watching the red A-line dress hugged the girl's waist. The simple three strand braid completing the simple look. Bella doesn't know why but she likes see Madeline in a side braid.

Madeline tugged on the knee length dress, a dark hue framing her pretty face, "Bella, je pense que la robe est trop courte."

"Absurdité," replied the elder girl

It had taken a couple of cooing and encouraging words from Bella until Madeline finally got the courage to go to the meeting room.

Bella swore that she would never forget the expression on their faces; Germany who considered Madeline a threat was surprise to see his enemy in a dress while the allies just blushed and looked away trying not to look at her exposed slender legs.

The most violent reaction came from her brother who took large strides to her, taking off his jacket to cover her petite body, and kept her by his side—going as far as to refuse anyone who dared to even sit near them.

Bella swore that she had never seen Alfred get so agitated the he told Madeline not to show skin to those _European perverts_ which led to everyone fighting and yelling at Alfred.

Though some Asian countries nodded in agreement with what Alfred had said. Bella chuckled taking the seat next to Madeline, she leaned over to whisper into the reddening ears— _how cute_.

"Once we're done, let's go out and eat something," Bella stuck out her tongue to America who was glaring at her from the corners of her eyes.

 _"_ Yes, I would like that, thank you Bella, _"_

Bella's cheeks redden when she felt Madeline's soft breath hitting her ears. Her soft voice was like music to Bella's ears. She buried her face into her arms, spotting the smile on Madeline's face.

A/N:

"Je suis désolé, ça fait mal?" I'm sorry, does it hurt?

"Non, Ne t'inquiète pas, tu n'étais pas toi-même." No, don't worry, you were not yourself.

"Bella, je pense que la robe est trop courte." Bella, I think the dress is too short

Absurdité Nonsense


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: Hetalia and the characters all belong to Hidekazu Himaruya_

 _**This story has a max of 600-700 words_

Curled Plait – Denmark

A weird habit that Madeline had developed as far back as she could remember is that once a year, she always could recall everything from the moment she woke up to the very present day.

It was like she was watching herself from the beginning of her life and no matter how many times she tried to write down all her memories—everything always somehow managed to disappear.

Sort of like magic, though if she said it out loud, Arthur would have come busting into her house in Ottawa and drag her into his annual magic meetings with some random nations who also believed in magic.

Today happened to be one of those days.

Madeline has woken up with a splitting headache at the dawn of the morning and one of the ways to calm herself had been to jet all the way to Newfoundland to an isolated tourist attraction.

An elderly blonde haired man had greeted her from her private Viking house that was displayed, and could be traced back as far as the year 1000.

It was one of the earliest standing objects that Madeline was very proud of. Even if times like this were a headach—literally.

In all honesty, her original people has regretted ever meeting these fair looking people…of whom weren't so fair. Though, Madeline did give them credit for informing her that she was different from her people.

Which was probably why Madeline found it strange that people around her grew wrinkles and grey hair while she remained in the body of a five years old, despite time fleeing.

Her people had called these new comers—the fair people.

Later learning that they were indeed Vikings that actually found her. Madeline could remember specifically two people, they had the same shade of eyes as her, though only one actually glimmer the same hue of violet eyes.

He was a small boy but much larger than Madeline, and he always tried to keep a stoic face which often failed more than not. His elder brother seem to do a better good but both of them seem to be some sort of subordinate of a much bulker and larger man.

A much much _rowdier_ single person than anyone hordes of people that Madeline had ever met. His loud laughter could be heard miles and miles away. She was so afraid that it would cause her snow to collapse and bury her people alive.

In all honesty, she would have never gotten caught by them if it weren't for Kumajiro running off on his own. He had been attracted by their sweet smelling food and Madeline really had no choice but to charge in to save her companion when she saw them picking him up by his foot.

Surely, she didn't want her companion to end up as bear stew.

The man had spotted her, staring at her like she was the strange creature. Madeline strained her ears in order to understand what the man was trying to say. He seem to catch on that she couldn't understand as he turned to a smaller boy, shoving the little girl towards the boy.

The boy blinked his eyes, staring at the identical eyes they both had. He shrugged his shoulders and whispered back an answer.

Madeline tried to wiggle away from the strong grip, winching when the man's voice seem to boom through her ear drums. It was followed by a loud pained sound as Madeline caught onto a stoic looking man taking her away from the loud man.

The stoic man led her to a home, opening the curtain as he bend down, pointing to himself, "Norway."

Madeline paused, then pointed her finger at the boy, "Norway."

Norway let out a satisfied grunt, rubbing her head affectionately before being shoved aside by the loud man who slid the curtains shut.

Madeline cocked her head to the side, shaky eyes trying to soak in the weird objects inside the home. She mumbled under her breath, wishing her people would come flocking to her recuse. She was afraid, she couldn't understand what in the world they were saying but somehow in her mind, she knew she could trust them.

After all, they haven't tied her up nor have they cooked her bear yet.

The loud man grinned, passing the sleeping bear back to Madeline and patted the spot in front of him. Madeline understood, it was always safer to follow your captor's instructions and sat in front of him. She stiffen at his touch, listening to him mutter under his breath in the language that she still couldn't understand.

He harshly tugged and pressed down at the ends of her hair earning a pained hissed from Madeline. He rubbed the crown of her head as an apology and braided her long black hair into a standard three strand braid, trying his best to somehow make the rough hair in his hands look at the very least presentable. He curled the braid into a bun, pushing shaved sticks to keep the hair in place.

Affectionately watching her curious hands tug at the material he used to keep her hair in place. Blue eyes met with boarder lining lilac eyes, he pointed at himself. "Denmark."

"Denmark," She repeated after him.

Denmark's time momentarily stopped when something warm landed on his cheeks, a laughter bubbling outside of his chest as he giggled to himself.

He followed the small girl into their makeshift bed of straws. Placing an affectionate kiss on top of her head, barely flinching at the texture of her rough hair. In due's time, she wouldn't have to worry about her rough hair—especially with Norway's remedy for smooth lasting hair.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So this was like written a while ago so I thought that I should published it because why the heck not! Every single one of the chapters consist of about 600-700 words, not really long but short enough for a quick read._

 _Disclaimer: Hetalia and the characters all belong to Hidekazu Himaruya_

 _Enjoy everyone!_

 _ **High twin tails—England**_

Arthur held unto the tray that was holding his tea set, walking outside to the garden where roses laid. On his days off, he really enjoyed doing absolutely nothing and in the presence of his bushes of roses. He poured himself a cup of earl grey, basking in the smell of the leaves.

His moment got interrupted when a small teenager came out to the garden with her polar bear in tow. She rubbed her eyes, violet eyes glancing at Arthur, a disapproving grunt came out of Arthur's mouth when he noticed that she was still in her pyjamas. "Good mo'ning Arthur, where's Alfred?"

"Good morning, love, he's having his lessons done right now since he wouldn't do it before." Arthur pointed at her attire before continuing, "You couldn't change before coming down? What if we had guests?"

"Sorry…" She mumbled, she gave an assuring pat to Kumajiro, who had growled at Arthur for scolding his master.

Arthur motioned at the chair on his left to signal to Madeline that she could sit down there while he poured the tea into her cup. Madeline thanked the older man and nervously picked on her loose hair.

Arthur knew that Alfred usually did her hair early in the morning but unfortunately with the amount of lessons he had been missing, Arthur had no choice but to send the boy early for his lessons.

Arthur watched the anxious teenager's violet eyes flick around the garden as if Alfred was going to pop out anytime now.

It wasn't hard to find out that Alfred would do Madeline's hair every morning because whenever he went to go wake the twins up he would always find Alfred sleeping soundly in Madeline's room with a bunch of hair ties or sometimes whenever they went out shopping, Alfred always bought hair ties and hairclips.

Slipping the last of his tea, Arthur stood up, walking behind a tense Madeline. He squeeze her tense shoulders, giving a reassuring message before he let his hairs run through her hair.

"Arthur?" She meekly called out, also expecting a full pledge answer to come of the older man.

Arthur muttered under his breath, a red taint painting his face. He grabbed the hair ties that had been wrapped around Madeline's wrist. "I can do your hair for you, love. It seems you're uncomfortable with your hair down."

He combed through the bed hair, running his hands over and over again before splitting it evenly. Madeline clenched her teeth to prevent a pained moan from escaping, Arthur hadn't detangled her hair properly. Arthur didn't notice the contoured expression on Madeline's face as he placed the hair high enough to create two high twin tails.

He stared at her for a while before walking over to pick up a small rose. He picked out the thorns and placed it on her hair as a decorative material.

Madeline smiled, thanking the British man who just reddened at the finished production.

"How do I look Arthur?" Madeline ask, getting up to give a small twirl around as her loose twin tails followed suit.

"Of course, you look good!" He shouted, flushed at the question. "But only because I did the hairstyle!" continued the older man.

"Thank you Arthur, it looks beautiful." Madeline kissed the tips of her hair. Oblivious to the older man's reddening face and obviously to the tutor's dismay of preventing the young Alfred from jumping out of the window.


End file.
